English as a Second Language
by 15Acesplz
Summary: Highschool AU. Junior Lovino Vargas signed up to be a mentor to a new student to have something else to put on college apps. He thought it would be easy. But he wasn't planning on getting stuck with an overly happy Spaniard who speaks limited English. Lame summary.
1. Chapter 1

**First multichapter, woot woot! I'm so excited! Let's go!**

"H-hello! My name is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. What is your name?"

He was right up in my space, smiling in a way that was obviously meant to be friendly. To be honest, it was a bit unnerving, especially since I hadn't been expecting to look up into a pair of bright green eyes.

He was still staring at me intently. I vaguely recalled hearing a question and my brain slowly processed what he'd said. "…Lovino." I answered. "Lovino Vargas.

"I know, knew, som- a person… with the name Vargas."

"The relevance of this was lost on me. I moved on. "So…" I checked the paper in my hand. "Antonio. You're my mentee."

"Que- uh, what?"

What was his problem? "You're new? I have to help you?"

He smiled again. "Yes!"

I squinted at him. Was he just dumb? "Well, I need your sheet."

"You need my…"

"Sheet. That paper in your hand." Jesus.

"Oh!" He handed it to me then began talking about something incredibly banal. I ignored him and looked over the sheet. Phone number, email, notes, he's from Spain-

Oh.

"…but also chocolate ice cream is good because-"

"Antonio," I interrupted. "Do you speak English?"

"Yes! But…no." I raised an eyebrow. "I speak English, but there are many words that I do not know." He clarified.

And the light is shed.

I tried to be gentle, which really isn't my forte. "Okay. On the first day of school," I paused, checking his face for understanding, then continued. "Meet me by the cafeteria."

"…Meet…"

"Uh, go to the cafeteria," I revised.

"Go to the cafeteria. Yes!"

That seemed to be it, so I leaned against the wall and sat down. To my surprise, Antonio didn't leave, opting instead to sit on the floor next to me.

"Do you want to listen to words that I know?"

What? "…Yes?" I responded tentatively.

"Yes! I am going to start with food! Potato, carrot, apple, chicken, candy, uh…cookie, espinachy, hamburger, pancake, egg, milk, cheese, uh…orange juice…"

I closed my eyes and sighed, already regretting signing up for this.

000

"Lovino!" The minute I walked into the cafeteria, I saw Antonio kneeling on a chair and waving his arms like I was a mile away.

"Who's that?" Feliciano prodded my shoulder.

"No one," I told him, avoiding eye contact with the idiot flagging me down. "Go away."

Feli shrugged and skipped over to his friends. I grimaced when he tackle-hugged the muscle headed German he liked so much. I'd have to send a few choice words the bastard's way later.

"Lovino!" Antonio shouted again.

I finally looked at him, walking over to where he was sitting- or rather, kneeling- and pushed him back into his chair. "Stop making such a scene," I said, reluctantly taking the seat opposite him.

He laughed nervously. "Yes…"

I could tell he had no idea what I'd said, but didn't really care. Remembering that I was practically required to talk to him, I pretended to make an effort. "Do you have everything you need?"

"I do not know," He said uncertainly. "What do I need?"

I shrugged. "Pens or pencils…notebooks..."

He nodded in affirmation. "I have those."

"Good." I took out a book, intending to ignore him.

"What are you reading?"

"A book."

"Which book?"

"None of your business."

"What?"

"Just shut up."

"What?"

"Oh my God…"

"Wha-" The bell rang. Hallelujah.

I started to leave, but no such luck.

"L-lovino! I do not know where I have to go…"

I sighed. "Give me your schedule."

"Uh…" I was preparing to explain the word when he held up a hand. "I do not want you to tell me, I know this!"

I rolled my eyes and waited.

Antonio bit his lip and muttered something in Spanish.

"Antonio, we have to go," I said impatiently.

"…You can tell me."

I picked my words carefully. "It's a paper. It has your classes on it. And it says when you go to them."

"…Oh. It is here." He dug the schedule out of his bag and gave it to me.

"You have gym first… same as me." I didn't even bother hiding my displeasure. A quick scan of the paper told me that we had almost every class together- just the sort of thing those administration bastards would do. Antonio took his schedule back, his eyes lowered. _Well, _I thought, _if humiliation keeps him quiet, it's fine by me. _"Come on."

000

After many attempts throughout the day to ditch Antonio, I became resigned to the fact that he was going to stick to me like a leech.

"Barcelona is… very good. There are many tall buildings and cathedrals and pretty view of the… water," He babbled as we left the school. "People once in a while say it is similar to the city of New York. Do you like the city of New York?"

"Uh, I-"

"Hello, Lovino!" Feliciano appeared out of nowhere, clinging to my arm. He peered at Antonio, who smiled brightly. "Who's your friend?"

"He," I laughed, "Is _not_ my friend."

"In any case, who is he?" Feliciano persisted.

"Antonio. My name is Antonio."

"He's from Spain," I added. I then leaned closer to Feliciano and lowered my voice. "And his English is absolutely awful."

"Lovino!" Feliciano cried indignantly. "That's not fair at all. Do you know as much Spanish as he knows English?"

I rolled my eyes and started to walk ahead of Idiots 1 and 2, who were quickly bonding. Figures. Within minutes they'd managed to exchange phone numbers and life stories, and they probably would have continued if I hadn't reminded that we had places to be and homework to do.

Feli wouldn't shut up on the way home, rambling on about how much he wanted to try gazpacho and describing it in a way that made it sound like a V8 in a bowl. I wasn't sure why, but the whole thing irked me. When Feli and the dumb Spaniard clicked, I could help feeling… a little jealous. That bothered me just as much. Jealous? Really? There had to be a better word for it, one that didn't sound so petty. One that made it clear that I didn't give a damn who Antonio was friends with. It sure as hell wasn't me, so why did I care so much? _It must be because everyone likes Feli better than me._ I assured myself.

Because there was no way I wanted to be Antonio's friend.

**Good start, I think. Right? If I get good responses I'll probably be inspired to update sooner~! If you don't tell me you like it I won't know! Don't be shy!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Omigod, you guys rock! Thanks so much, all you readers! You get another chapter! (Plus I fixed the scene breaks in Chapter 1)**

As the getting-to-know-you part of the school year ended and the real work began, Antonio became even more dependent on me, constantly asking me what that word is and permanently adopting the phrase "I don't understand". About two weeks after school started he came to me with an idea- not that he knew how to say that.

"I have a… a very good… thing that I thought," He told me over the phone. "Do you want to do homework with me?" He rushed on, sensing that I might object. "I need help. You are smart; you can help me."

I wasn't smart, not by a long shot, let alone a good student, but I did recognize the language our homework was written in. I sighed. "You can come to my house after school."

"Good! My mother is going to be happy. She wants me to spend more time with friends," He informed me.

"We're not friends."

There was a pause. Then, cheery as ever, he said, "Until tomorrow, Lovino!"

"Yeah, whatever. 'Until tomorrow'."

000

"I like your house!" Antonio told me, looking around.

"Great. Let's get this over with."

"Don't be silly, Lovino! Let me give him a tour!" Feliciano begged.

"Feli, I don't think-"

"What is a tour?" Antonio wanted to know.

"He wants you to see the house and tell you about it." If there was one thing I'd gotten good at in the past two weeks, it was describing words. "But we don't have enough time."

"Please, Lovino!" They said in unison.

"…Fine. But make it quick."

And they were off and running, me trailing behind. With three stories to cover including the furnished basement, Feliciano giving lengthy anecdotes for every room, and Antonio needing almost everything Feli said reworded, it took us a good half hour to get through the whole house.

"Okay," I finally said. "We really have to work now."

"Aww…"

By the time we'd gotten started, Grandpa came home and barged into my room without knocking. "Feli told me you have a friend over."

"He's not my friend. I'm his mentor."

"Oh, I forgot you're doing that…" Grandpa grinned and winked. "You boys aren't reading dirty magazines in here, are you?"

Of course he nodded. Of course that _idiot_ pretended he understood every damn word and nodded.

I put my hands over my reddening face while Grandpa laughed incredulously. "He doesn't speak English, Grandpa!"

"I speak English!" Antonio protested.

"Not enough." I looked pointedly at Grandpa, who was still smiling teasingly.

"Well, then, I'll leave you to it." He shook his head and laughed again, then left.

Antonio turned to me, genuinely confused. "What did he say?"

I threw my pencil at him.

000

I hated mornings. I was always tired and really just wanted everyone to leave me alone, and go to hell if entirely possible. But since when did I get what I wanted? What with Feliciano and now Antonio I had to listen to sunny, animated voices throughout the morning, and today was no different.

"Why do you say that we are not friends?"

I glanced at Antonio. Okay, maybe today was a little different. He wasn't smiling, or even looking dimly curious. Seeing him so solemn was fairly off-putting. I barely remembered what he'd said. "…What?"

"Why do you say that we are not friends?" He repeated.

Oh. I rubbed my forehead. It was too damn early to deal with serious stuff like this. "I… I don't like you, Antonio. What more do you need?"

"Why do you not like me?" He asked, looking apprehensive.

I huffed irritably. "I don't like you because you're tedious and way too damn happy and you embarrass me without trying."

"What is tedious?"

Oh, good God, was I sick of that question. "This!" I exploded. "I have to use words you know and tell you words you don't and it's a lot of time and work! I didn't ask for this! Well, I did, I signed up for it, but I didn't ask to get stuck with the most annoying person I've _ever _met!" By the end I had raised my voice enough to feel slightly guilty.

"I am sorry…" The smallness of his voice just made me feel even guiltier, and angrier. "I do not know if I want to… but… I have a question."

"What!" I snapped.

"What is weird?" He asked tentatively.

"Not normal." I grumbled.

"O-K."

The silence that followed was unbearable, and I couldn't shake that guilty feeling. "Look, Antonio, I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Yelled?"

"Oh, good grief, uh, got angry with you."

"Oh! Thank you!"

And just like that he was happy again. I couldn't believe it. No one should have liked me after that. But he did, apparently. Why was he so damn _nice_? The way it put me in this position was almost unforgivable. Thinking maybe he wouldn't be too bad a friend… Ridiculous. I glanced at him and was immediately jealous. He was so carefree, turning his head this way and that and naming random items he saw under his breath while I was in mental agony. He would have never noticed, oblivious bastard. He was so stupid… and yet…

"Antonio," I recaptured his attention. "If you really want to be my friend so bad… I guess you can." I silently cursed his affability.

"Oh, Lovino!" He hugged me.

"Ach!" I pushed him away. "Rule number one: no hugging."

He nodded curtly. "Right!"

I knew he would anyway. He hadn't even known the word.

**Woohoo! I'm excited. Are you excited? Because I am! Reviews make me happy~!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here it is, 3rd chapter! You all have permission to throw tomatoes at me for being a lazy, lazy writer. I don't own Hetalia. This chapter contains alcohol. **

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Having a friend (a real friend, not just a stupid tagalong kid brother) was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Most everything stayed the same -walking to classes, doing homework, Antonio wearing my nerves thin with incessant chatter- but there was a tangible difference in the atmosphere between us. It seemed that this whole "friend" business almost made him more tolerable. That aspect definitely made my life a hell of a lot more pleasant. Granted, there were still moments where I would've slapped him across his dumb face if it weren't for the mental image of his pathetic puppy dog eyes, but those moments were mostly early in the morning, so it wasn't really anyone's fault but the goddamn sun's.

Of course, I wasn't Antonio's only friend. Being as friendly as he was, along with improving his English, made Antonio quite popular. He talked to everyone, and even when he messed shit up, girls- most of them were girls- thought it was cute. Which was really total bullshit, because having to be a walking dictionary annoyed the hell out of me.

He was getting better though, and becoming less reliant on me. I thought, what with having so many new friends who were sociable, agreeable, and just plain nicer than me, he wouldn't need me at all. It would just fit my oh-so-perfect life for my first real friend to abandon me for better horizons. But he didn't He still spent more time with me than all the people who were interested in "that hot guy from Spain". It confused me to no end. I wasn't smart or interesting, or even fun to be around. Almost anyone was preferable to me. Still, it didn't stop him. In fact, before I knew it, he was trying to get me some more friends.

"There's a party at Alfred Jones's house." He told me once at my locker. "Do you want to come?"

"Hell no." I said immediately. I was not a party person. That is, I had never been to one and didn't intend to change that.

"Why not?" Antonio used an annoying pleading voice. "You can find friends there!"

"Antonio, I've been going to the same school my whole life. I would already know just about everyone there."

"It's going to be fun!' He tried to tempt me.

"I doubt that."

"Please, Lovino!"

I looked at his hopeful face a sight, running a hand through my hair. I was such a pushover. "If I say I'll come will you shut the hell up?"

He grinned at me, his eyes bright with excitement. "I knew you were going to say yes!"

I took one look around the crowded room and knew I didn't belong. Not here, in a star quarterback's house, surrounded by drunk, sweaty teenagers on a Friday night. No, Friday nights were for damn good homemade pizza and fighting over movies with Feli. This was a foreign territory. I suddenly knew how Antonio must have felt when he first came to the United States. Of course, the sociable bastard was perfectly comfortable in this setting, saying hi to everyone and accepting a drink from a girl who flirted with him shamelessly, much to my annoyance. She wasn't even that great looking, and the nose job wasn't helping.

"Do you want one?" Antonio asked me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

For a minute I thought he was talking about a nose job. "…What?" I realized the girl had left.

"A drink." He said with a cheerful smile.

"No. Is this what you were calling fun?"

"You're so funny, Lovino…"

I had lost Antonio. I'd only turned my back for a second to see if there was any food worth eating (there wasn't) and he had disappeared, probably telling some curious bastard about "España". The fact remained that I hadn't see him for in two hours -I kept checking my watch to fight off boredom- and I wanted to leave more than ever. But we had come together, and I wasn't sure if I should go without at least telling him.

My problem solved itself when Antonio finally showed up, falling next to me on the couch. "Lovinooo!" He crooned.

"There you are. Can we go?"

He just looked at me with a dopey smile. "¿Qué?"

"What? I said-"

He cut me off, leaning on my shoulder. "N-no puedo… no se…" He slurred into my ear. His breath smelled like beer.

I groaned, reaching understanding. The stupid bastard had gotten just as drunk as every other person at this godforsaken party and forgotten every damn word of English he knew. "Antonio, I'm taking you home." I helped him stand up.

"?Donde estamos yendo?"

"Antonio, I don't speak fucking Spanish!" I said in frustration. "Ugh, just come with me."

He continued to babble about God knows what as we left the house and got in the car. It was only after pulling the car out of the driveway that I realized that I had never been to his house and had no idea where it was.

"Shit… uh, Antonio."

"¿Qué?"

"Where do you live?"

"Lovinooo, no entiendo lo que estás diciendo!"

I swore again. "Looks like we're going to my house." I said, more to myself than the drunk idiot sitting next to me, who decided it was a good time to start singing. I resisted the urge to drive to car into a telephone pole.

Getting into the house without waking anyone up was probably one of the hardest things I'd done. Antonio wouldn't shut up, giggling like a tree year old, and couldn't even walk straight, let alone take on a staircase on his own. It was a miracle that we made it to my room without incident.

Antonio collapsed on my bed immediately, murmuring, "Siento sueño…"

"Sure whatever." I looked at the clock; it was already past one. "Goodnight, Antonio." I started to leave, intending to sleep on the couch.

Antonio started whining loudly. "Nooo!No me dejes!"

"Shh! I'm staying right here, okay?" I hoped that was what he wanted so I could just go to sleep. I kicked off my shoes and climbed into the bed. Antonio latched onto me like I was a teddy bear. "Idiot… You're lucky I put up with you."

But he was already asleep.

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**Was that worth the wait? I really don't know. Review!**


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